Go ahead, roll in it. Revel in it. You're made of it. What, you prefer a meek, sterile world?
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2007/11/02/notes110207.DTL&nl=fixI'm 2 or 3 years old. I'm out in the backyard playing in the grass and my dad is just over there, working in the garden, planting tomatoes or carrots or human shrunken heads or God knows what because how the hell should I know, I'm only 3.
Like any self-respecting child, I like to dig in the dirt with my bare hands, probe, investigate the planet I currently cruise so close to. It pays off nicely. I eventually find real treasure: a big, fat, juicy earthworm. Oh my yes.
It is fascinating. It is squiggly and squishy and weird and wonderful — you know, just like life. I hold it up to the light. I hold it close to my face, my nose, my mouth. I am examining. I am expanding my tiny little brain. My mouth is possibly wide open in wonder.
It is apparently at this precise moment that my father looks up, glances over to check on me, sees a giant earthworm dangling over my wide-open mouth. He is, naturally, a tiny bit startled. He shouts my name, hoping to halt the inevitable. I jump. I react accordingly. ...